Cursed
by Attila the Conqueror
Summary: [CATSXHP] A horrible cursed left them with nothing. They were shunned by society, pushed into isolation. Upon their children's shoulders they set the task of finding a cure for them all. But the children may not want to be 'normal.'
1. Prologue

**A/N:** Okay, so I haven't been very active here for a long time. But what the hey, why not break the silence with a brand spankin' new fic, hm? I'll just tell you now that I don't know how often I can update. It may be weeks... or it may be months. It all depends on how much homework I have, and if that acursed Writer's Block Demon will stop picking on me. I shake my fist at thee, Demon!

* * *

Lord Voldemort stared down at the various Muggle-born wizards and their Muggle families and friends, a look of pure disgust written clearly upon his face. They all were lower than animals. Every one of them were bound securely with ropes, and completely at his non-existent mercy. Pathetic, the whole lot of them. Yet there was only one thing stopping him from killing them on the spot; they were absolutely silent. None of them were begging for mercy, not one of them pleading to join his cause if only he'd spare them a terrible death. What fun was killing if his captives weren't going to scream?

"Tell me why I should spare your lives," the Dark Lord declared clearly, his strong, cold voice projecting effortlessly so that every single one of them heard. His serpentine eyes gave a passing glance to each one, waiting for a response. There was none. All of their expressions were blank. They didn't even appear to be afraid of him, for some inexplicable reason. And that bothered Lord Voldemort. "Answer me!"

And elderly man with wizened features cleared his throat, so obviously the leader of these Mudbloods and Muggles. "We do not answer you, because we do not want to be spared. We would rather die than serve you for sparing us!"

How intriguing. It was common knowledge among the Dark Lord and his Death-eaters that serving someone you want to kill is a worse fate than death. However, killing was such fun that Voldemort had never felt the need to utilize that option. But this was different. They weren't screaming, and that took all the enjoyment out of murder. But he didn't want mere _Muggles_ and _Mudbloods_ to wait on him, they were too low even for a life of servitude. As the answer came to him, a wicked grin pulled at the corners of his thin lips.

"You are most fortunate that I will not kill you. You will serve my Death Eaters and I, but not in this form." He chuckled evilly as his captives expressionless gaze shifted to one of confusion. Yes, enslavement would be the perfect torture for this lot. "_Morphus Felidae Slaaveria._" The curse worked, as all curses cast by Lord Voldemort did.

**

* * *

**"Just look at us!" A cat-like being with silver-grey fur and black stripes shouted, "We're freaks! _He_ knows we can't leave, not like this! We must do something, to turn ourselves back! Even if we have to kill Voldemort!" There were locked in the dark room that was supposed to be their sleeping area. Although the room was large,it was still over crowded and the presence of some twenty other cat-people caused the room to reek constantly. 

"Calm down, Jordan." The once wizened old man, who was now covered in long bushy grey fur of various shades, put a transformed hand onto the younger's shoulder and spoke calmly, "There is nothing we can do at this point but wait. Voldemort cannot stay in power forever. Once we are freed, the Ministry of Magic will reverse the curse and we can go back to our homes. In the meantime, we must deal with our present forms and do what we can to stay alive."

"But father," Jordan pleaded.

"There is nothing that can be done, Jordan," the old cat-person said again, "but wait." As if to emphasize his point, he sat on the ground. The others had been watching, fear in their eyes. An odd silence filled the room, making everyone uncomfortable and more afraid.

"What about my child? He can't be told what happened, especially if he was...changed like us," piped up a very pregnant woman with dark Siamese-type fur. She looked at the elder meaningfully, needing to be reassured during her pregnancy.

"We will figure that out when the time comes. We may just have to make up some sort of lore and change our names to pass ourselves off as a different species, Cassandra, but lets hope that we are back to our true selves before then."

"Voldemort is the heir of Salazar Slytherin, why didn't he change us into snake-things?" An older woman with tiger stripes and leopard spots asked after an uncomfortable silence.

"Because, that's what he wants," spat a tall tom with ginger fur, "giving us the 'honor' of being snake-like would be a gift rather than punishment in his psychotic eyes." He thought a moment. "And he wants to be able to look classy while torturing us, so he didn't turn us into something hideous."

"I'm not even going to ask how you know that," said someone unrecognizable, but had a long mane and leopard spots.

The door to the chamber opened, nearly blinding the transformed people within with the light, and a dozen Death Eaters walked in. They split into two groups, six of them lining up on each side of the door as Lord Voldemort entered, a sinister grin on his snake-like features. A few of the cat-beings moved to the back of the room, afraid and not wanting to be seen, while most stood their ground, glaring defiantly. Looking at his captives, the Dark Lord seemed to be sizing each of them up.

Finally, he pointed to three; the man with silver fur and black stripes, the one with the mane, and the ginger cat-person. Immediately, several Death Eaters swooped down upon the chosen three, dragging them forward and forcing them to kneel in front of their new master. It was no coincidence that Voldemort had chosen the three who were most likely to give him trouble, in fact, it was the reason that they were chosen. Lord Voldemort knew he would garner much entertainment breaking these three of their will. They looked up at him murderously, of one mind in their desire to kill.

"What do you want with us," growled the maned one, finding his voice after an unbearable and tense silence. Voldemort acted as though he hadn't spoken, turning to address his Death Eaters instead.

"My most faithful of Death Eaters, you have the honour of choosing your slave from the rest. Those in my service who are not as trustworthy as you twelve will have to pick from the remaining creatures."

**

* * *

**

Years had passed, and the transformed beings were still enslaved to Voldemort and his merciless Death Eaters. Their numbers had thinned considerably. All of them had lost their powers, except for one: Macavity. He had the common sense tocast a defensive spell that had partially protected him at the same time Voldemort had been casting his curse; he may have been feline, but at least he was still a wizard. Of course, he kept this information to himself. Even he had to admit that he wasn't as powerful as Voldemort, and the others would expect him to make a suicide attempt at killing their so-called Master.

Cassandra's child had been born, and was healthy. He was covered in black fur, with the exception of a white face and a tuxedo-pattern on his chest. Even though the child (or kitten, as the others were affectionately calling him) was turning three years old soon, he was still far too young to be displaying any magical capabilities, if he had any. The father, a white tom with black patches, was anxiously hoping that his son would be magical— it would mean that they wouldn't be helpless against Voldemort forever. In the meantime, little Quaxo as he was called, provided amusement that lifted the otherwise dismal atmosphere of the group.

Being Voldemort's slave was similar to being under the Imperius curse: whatever he demanded, they obeyed without question or resistance. Only, unlike the Imperius curse, the creatures were well aware of what was happening. Their murderous looks of hatred as their minds screamed out against catering to Voldemort's every whim was immeasurably entertaining to the Dark Lord. The same applied to those under the Death Eater's command. And without their magic, the servants were powerless against their Master'swill. Their bodies, which were creations of Voldemort's twisted mind, were bound to him forever.

Voldemort and his Death Eaters had just gotten back from another killing spree, and were in a particularly jovial mood. That meant painful torture for the feline-like slaves to celebrate. A tall scarlet woman was in the midst of a Crucio curse when someone suddenly apparated into the room. He had hair that stuck out in every direction, and dark brown eyes. Immediately, the Death Eaters forgot about their torture and set out to eliminate James Potter.

"No," Voldemort ordered, seemingly amused, "He came all this way just to see me. I'll duel him." The Death Eaters formed their usual ring around the combatants, making snide remarks about James and cheering their leader.

The battle was short, but exciting. Voldemort had refrained from using the Unforgivable Curses, wanting to draw out the fight instead. They threw and dodged various hexes, charms, and curses. But Potter had finally managed to put a leg-lock hex on him, leaving him helpless. Immediately, the Death Eaters joined in to protect Voldemort, and James soon had to apparate out or face obliteration. "I'll be back, Voldemort. You can't run from the Ministry forever."

Only seconds later, Voldemort had freed himself from the hex and slowly stood up. He had been humiliated by that Potter... and he would lose his Death Eater's faith if he did not get revenge. James Potter, and his family, would be Voldemort's next target.

**

* * *

**

No one knew how it happened. But the night Wormtail had divulged the Potter's secret, Voldemort had immediately departed to kill them. It had been late at night, and the cat-creatures were in their chamber as they always were when they weren't obeying their masters' whims. But when Voldemort had failed to kill the infant Harry Potter, it was like a great weight had been lifted from their chests. For a reason unknown to them, the captives felt like rejoicing. A Death Eater apparated next to the prison guards.

"Voldemort is dead!" Was all the man said before apparating out, the others soon following. The prisoners exchanged looks, before fleeing themselves.

* * *

**A/N:** This is my first attempt at a cross-over, and any feedback at all would be most appreciated. Even pointing out typos/errors in this chapter is helpful, since I'm weird and actually go back and fix those things when you point them out. Now, just as a warning, I will be bending typical CATS canon to suit this story. It'll be cool; trust me. 


	2. The strange package

**A/N:** I told you it'd take me a while to update, now didn't I? Well, it's here now.

* * *

The Ministry of Magic provided no means to turn the transmuted wizards and witches back into humans. So they did what any government would do when faced with a problem they could not solve: pretend it never existed. They provided the cat-like beings with a large plot of land, where they would not be disturbed by both the magical and muggle community. A few spells had been cast over the area to make sure of it. The Ministry also promised that they'd find a cure as soon as possible. But there was always a difference between saying something and actually following through. 

After a few years, the Jellicles had nearly given up finding a cure for their unwanted felinity. They were making every attempt to settle into their new lives; they built homes, farmed, and even began families. The group named themselves "Jellicles," called the women "Queens," and the men "Toms." To relieve themselves of the dull monotony, they celebrated the holidays as well. One holiday they themselves created, known as the Jellicle Ball. It happened on the first full moon after the death of Voldemort. As the old man had promised, they made up lore to protect their children, or kittens, from the painful truth. There was history involved, as well; terrific battles fought by ancestors who never existed, imagined peace treaties with the humans that were broken, resulting in their current exile. The majority renamed themselves, too ashamed of their new forms to use a name that tied into their human past. The fables were so elaborate, that even some of the adults who should have known better began to believe it. It was far better for the kittens this way. At least they wouldn't know that they were a monstrosity in the eyes of human kind.

Quaxo, who preferred to be called Mistoffelees, was displaying magical abilities— to the immense relief of the Jellicles. Alonzo and Cassandra were immensely proud of their kit. Alonzo was the black and white tom, who's original name was Jason. Cassandra had been too proud to change her name.

There were other kittens, as well. Each and every one of them magical. None of them knew of their true heritage. Macavity, the only adult Jellicle who managed to retain his magical abilities, was soon found out. After refusing to help the Jellicles overcome the curse and train the kittens, he was banished. His mate, Griddlebone, left with him. Their parents tried to teach the kits to control their magic, but it was useless without the ability to perform it themselves.

* * *

There was quite an uproar at the Ministry. All of the offspring of those hideous cat-creatures were of age to begin attending wizard school. Some of them were old enough to be fifth years! Cornelius Fudge wondered if they should be let into Hogwarts. After all, they weren't even human anymore, and the normal students would probably completely reject them. And all the complaints against it! Fudge did not think he could stand that many howlers. He'd go deaf after the first day. Fortunately for him, he wouldn't have to debate with himself for long. The problem was decided upon when Albus Dumbledore showed up at the Ministry. 

"We cannot possibly send them to your school, Dumbledore. They're a liability. We do not know if they're dangerous or not. They could attack your students!" Cornelius Fudge roared. Dumbledore merely sat there with his calm smile.

"We will not know unless we try, Cornelius. They are wizards and witches, just the same as any of the pupils who attend Hogwarts," he replied, eyes twinkling although the rest of his face was stern.

"They're cat... things!" Cornelius countered, then calmed down. "Besides, what if your students do not accept them? They would be shunned, tormented, and the butt of every 'accidental' hex."

"I will personally take responsibility for any mishaps that may occur, Cornelius," Dumbledore replied.

"But..." Cornelius faltered.

"This conversation is over. The Jellicle children— what an interesting name— will be attending my school. Should things go awry, they will be sent home and I shall step down as headmaster to repent for my actions."

"But..." The Minister repeated, unable to think of an appropriate response.

"Good day to you, Cornelius." Dumbledore stood, and began to walk out of the room. The Minister spluttered for a few moments, before finally finding his tongue.

"That's Fudge to you, Dumbledore!" he shouted, cramming his lime green bowler hat onto his head.

* * *

"Ooooooh! Look at the big bird!" Etcetera squealed, pointing to the sky where a large barn owl could be seen circling, as if to land shortly. All activity ceased, as the Jellicles watched in shock. The adults had some understanding of the owl's purpose. It was going to deliver one of them a letter, something that they hadn't witnessed in a long, long time. Right now it was looking for the recipient. 

Old Deuteronomy stepped into view, and the owl landed right on his shoulder. On its right leg, was a small box. Inside, were eleven letters, all individually addressed to the kittens in green curly script. On the back was the Hogwarts coat of arms. The owl hopped off of the old tom's shoulder, perching on a nearby tree to await a reply. With a sigh, Old Deuteronomy mumbled, "It would have been easier just to send one letter for them all."

"What is it?" Mistoffelees asked, head tilted in a classic feline expression of curiousity. "Who's it from?"

"I think we're going to have to have a talk about this, kittens, go run and play," Jennyanydots told them, making a shooing motion.

"But I want to see!" Etcetera whined.

"Go play," Munkustrap ordered, in a tone that was pure authority. Grumbling, the kittens obeyed and left the adults.

"What is it, Old Deuteronomy," Jellylorum asked.

"Letters. The kittens have been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," the old tom replied, sitting down.

"Seriously?" Demeter replied incredulously.

"They're right here. Why else would Dumbledore write us?" Munkustrap answered, still staring at the letters.

"Should we let them go?" Old Deuteronomy asked, getting right to the point. "You are their parents, it is up to you to decide."

The Jellicles murmured quietly amongst themselves, overall quite confused as to why the kittens had been accepted in the first place. Every now and again, the sounds of their debates rose to shouting, until Munkustrap and Old Deuteronomy restored the calm. Finally, after seemingly hours, they appeared to have reached an agreement.

"Old Deuteronomy, we want our children to attend Hogwarts. They'll learn to control their magic, and maybe Dumbledore has an idea or two of how to cure us. They have to go." Skimbleshanks announced.

"Very well, then." Old Deuteronomy answered. "Fortunately, it seems as though Dumbledore has taken care of the costs for us. All we have to do is get them to King's Cross before the Hogwart's Express leaves."

"It's almost as if he knew we'd agree," Tugger remarked. "How do you think the kits will handle suddenly being surrounded by humans?" They had been taught through their 'history' lessons to fear humans, to help retain their secrecy. The tribe grew silent as they realized this. It would be asking them a lot to go live among humans.

"Well, I'm sure Dumbledore has made plans for all of this," Jennyanydots said, with a slight nod, "He's wise in ways no one understands." To this, all the Jellicles had to agree.

* * *

**A/N:** Now, some of you may be crying "Blasphemy! It's against the CATS canon! How can -all- the kits be magical?" Well, if you don't like it, then don't read it. I'll just tell you this: it is essential to the plot that I have all the kittens in Hogwarts. 


	3. Odd Patched Hat

**A/N:** Yes, yes, I know I know. I'm such a bad author for waiting so long to update. Well, I've been busy with our school's musical, How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying. But that's all over now, and so now I'll have more time to write. Yay!

* * *

The kittens stared up at the castle as they made their way across the lake. It loomed over them, menacing and forbidding. Almost as if the building itself was trying to keep the cat-beings outside of its walls. For reasons unknown to them, they were kept separate from the other students; they had their own car on the Hogwarts Express, and now their own boat for the journey across the lake. It was being navigated by a huge bearded human, who watched them in complete fascination.

Their boat did not follow the others onto the shores. Instead, it landed a short distance away, where in the darkness the human students would not be able to see well enough to distinguish the Jellicles as less than human. Trailing behind the massive pack of first years, the Jellicle kittens followed, not a word between them. They were all too excited, and a bit afraid. Who knew what it would be like living among humans? Like the felines they resembled, the kittens had an insatiable sense of curiosity, and even Mistoffelees felt himself anticipating the year ahead.

* * *

"I'm not going," Mistoffelees said bluntly to his parents, Cassandra and Alonzo. The two adults looked at each other before sighing.

"Misto," Cassandra began gently, "you must. There is so much for you there. You know that we have been unable to teach you or the other kittens how to control your magic. It is only a matter of time before someone is seriously injured, or even killed."

"And those humans, those monsters, won't kill us?" the young tuxedo tom retorted. He received a glare from Alonzo for speaking rudely to his mother. "They broke all those peace treaties," he began in a calmer voice, "they forced us into isolation. How can we trust them?"

"We will never trust them if we do not give them a chance to prove they are trust worthy," Alonzo answered, "and they will never understand us if we hide ourselves. Albus Dumbledore— he's the headmaster at Hogwarts— has already taken care of the expenses needed. He's a good man, very wise and understanding. He'll make sure nothing happens to you."

* * *

Now that he thought about it, Mistoffelees still didn't quite understand what exactly had made him change his mind. The enormous man shepherded the kittens into a hall, which was entirely empty of anything but a few paintings and statues.

"Oi'll be right back," the tall man said, "You just stay 'ere." They were left alone, most nervously staying with the group and looking around with expressions of fear and awe.

"This is so exciting!" Etcetera squealed, "look at all the... oooh! Shiney!" She looked up at a shining metal suit of armor, and poked it; then she lept nearly ten feet into the air when it poked her back.

"Miss, please stay with the group," an elderly woman with glasses and her black hair pulled back into a tight bun had spoken. "I am Professor McGonagall, and you will address me as such. If you must call me something else, Professor will do. Terribly sorry for the wait, Professor Dumbledore is giving a speech. Come along, we will introduce you to the rest of the school and get you sorted. There are four houses; Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Slytherin, and Ravenclaw."

They were led into the largest room they had ever seen. It was packed full of students at four tables, each wearing the same black robes and caps as the Jellicles.

"Blimey! Look at that!" Mungojerrie said in awe, pointing to the ceiling. Was there even a ceiling? The Jellicles could see support beams going up, but only the clear starry sky above. But what was most noticeable was the absolute silence. Thousands of eyes stared at the frightened Jellicle kittens, more than a few mouths hanging open.

"And here are our newest additions to our humble school." A tall man said, gesturing widely to the kittens. He was tall and thin, with flowing silver hair and beard. Small half-moon spectacles perched on his crooked nose. "I expect that you will treat them with kindness and generosity, as you will with our guests from Beauxbaton and Durmstrang later this year. Now, shall we sort them into their respective houses?" Albus Dumbledore pointed to a three-legged stool with an old patched wizard's hat on it. The kittens stared at it, unable to move. "You only need to place the hat on your head."

Mistoffelees looked around him, then sighed. They were far too frightened (like he was, though he would never admit it) to go first, so he would have to. Gulping slightly, he started forward. He found himself glancing up towards Dumbledore, who smiled reassuringly. Somehow, even though he was human, it made the tuxedo tom feel better. He sat on the stool, now even more painfully aware of the students, Jellicles, and professors of this strange school staring at him as he placed the hat on his head.

"RAVENCLAW!"

Mistoffelees jumped, wondering where the owner of the voice was. Looking around frantically, his search was only met with laughter from the human students. At least, all of the students except those who sat at the Ravenclaw table. They stared at the tuxedo tom blank-faced. Professor McGonagall stood and ushered the young tom towards the table.

"Find a place to sit," she told him. Instantly, it seemed, the table was far too crowded to allow for any more occupants.

Mistoffelees' ears flicked back, wondering what to do. It was obvious that he wasn't wanted; he could practically smell the human's hatred, disgust, and fear. And yet he didn't want to simply stand there like an idiot. He took a few steps forward, and the humans thankfully parted and gave him a wide berth. Sitting down, he looked around at the other students, who avoided his eye. And yet, as soon as his head was turned, they stared at him. White cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment, Mistoffelees stared down at the plate set before him.

Etcetera's curiosity got the better of her. She had seen who the owner of the voice belonged to; that odd patched hat. Giggling with nervousness, as was her way, she sat down on the stool and placed the hat carefully on her head. There was a moment of silence, just enough for her to look up at the brim of the hat in worry.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Etcetera replaced the hat on the stool and started heading over to where Mistoffelees sat. Professor McGonagall stopped her. "Miss, you must sit with your assigned table." She pointed in the direction of a table of students who wore canary yellow badges. They waved a little nervously at the queen. Nervously giggling again, Etcetera half bounced, half walked to where her new dorm-mates sat.

"Hi, I'm Etcetera!" she told her fellow Hufflepuffs, trying to be friendly. "What're your names?" She turned this way and that, expecting a reply from someone. The other students merely smiled half-heartedly, then turned back to their friends to whisper. Etcetera sniffed, ears drooping. "How rude."

Next were Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer, who were both sorted into Gryffindor, soon followed by Tumblebrutus.. Jemima joined Mistoffelees in Ravenclaw, as well as Plato and Admetus. Both Pouncival and Victoria became Hufflepuffs. All throughout, the human students remained completely silent. The Slytherins, who had no Jellicles in their house, even wore a confident sneer.

"SLYTHERIN!"

The sneers disappeared as Electra joined their table. She didn't need directions; she was the only one to have that name called out, and so logically the only table without Jellicles had to be hers. She could already tell that this was the worst house to have joined.


End file.
